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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154018">The Tool Shed of Doom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimmyPenguin421/pseuds/JimmyPenguin421'>JimmyPenguin421</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Indiana Jones Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:48:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimmyPenguin421/pseuds/JimmyPenguin421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wanted to mow his lawn. But nothing is ever that simple for Indiana Jones.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Tool Shed of Doom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I do not own Indiana Jones.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Indiana Jones took a deep breath. How hard could this be? He’d done much harder things.</p><p>All he had to do was mow the lawn.</p><p>The problem was that the lawnmower was in the shed.</p><p>A favorite nesting place for wasps.</p><p>He didn’t have any insecticide, and he didn’t feel like going to the store. Because of the war, the stores were always… <em>interesting,</em> to say the least. Some people felt like they needed to stock up for… emergencies. Indy could see their point, but he didn’t want to brave the stores with those frantic over-shoppers.</p><p>So he was stuck with good old-fashioned soap water. He’d heard that it did the job.</p><p>Slowly, Indy approached the shed. A few wasps were flying about, but that was normal for summer.</p><p>Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out the key and inserted it in the shed’s padlock. He shook and pulled at the lock until it opened. He removed the lock, dropped it into his pocket, and swung the door open.</p><p>The lawnmower was at the very back of the shed, with a bike, a chair, and a variety of other items in the way.</p><p>And there was a wasp nest just inside of the door. The opening of the door seemed to have riled them up, and Indy shaking the lock (and subsequently the door) probably hadn’t helped.</p><p>Indy backed away, pulling the spray bottle of soap water from the holster where he usually kept his gun. He pointed the bottle at the nest and pulled the trigger.</p><p>It was stuck.</p><p>He looked down and fiddled with the lock mechanism for a second.</p><p><em>Stupid sticky safety</em>.</p><p>“Eh,” he muttered. He simply unscrewed the lid and threw the soap water over the nest. “Ha!”</p><p>Other than being wet, the wasps showed no change. They flew around and, well… stayed alive.</p><p>If anything, Indy had just made it worse, because now more wasps were buzzing around.</p><p>Maybe the soap water took some time to work.</p><p>He backed off and waited for the wasps to start falling.</p><p>But they didn’t.</p><p>
  <em>Wait, maybe that one? </em>
</p><p>No, that was intentional. Just another happy landing. For the wasp, anyway.</p><p>Indy sighed. He went inside to get a drink of water and his jacket. Yes, it was the middle of summer, but he wanted to minimize his stings if he could.</p><p>When he came back out, the wasps seemed to have calmed down a bit.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, he zipped up his jacket and lowered his hat, grimacing at the heat.</p><p>Ever so carefully, he crept slowly toward the shed.</p><p>The wasps didn’t seem to notice.</p><p>He set his foot in the doorway.</p><p>A wasp flew past his face, and he held his breath.</p><p>It went elsewhere, and he exhaled.</p><p>He reached for the first obstacle—a wooden chair. Picking it up, he backed gingerly out of the shed and set the chair on the grass.</p><p>Turning back to the shed, he repeated the process: sneak, hold breath, hope he didn’t get stung. He rolled a bike out of the shed and went back for the next obstacle.</p><p>This went on for a while, seeing as how Indy had to move so slowly.</p><p>Finally, he had a clear path to get the lawnmower out. Stepping forward, careful to tread softly, he laid his hands on the lawnmower’s handle and let out a sigh of relief.</p><p>After catching his breath, he gave the lawnmower a gentle pull and started to roll it towards the exit.</p><p>The wheel <em>clunked </em>against a box. Indy froze.</p><p>The box in turn knocked over a sled, which hit a fishing pole, which toppled over and hit the wasp nest right smack in the middle.</p><p><em>That </em>wasn’t good.</p><p>If the wasps weren’t worked up before, they sure would be now.</p><p>Sure enough, wasps began angrily swarming around the fishing pole, as well as patrolling the general area for invaders.</p><p>Then some bright wasp spotted Indy and flew towards his face. Indy swatted the wasp away, but it managed to recover and land on his arm. Fortunately, he didn’t feel anything. His jacket must be doing its job.</p><p>Pulling his hat down more snugly and throwing an arm up to protect his face, Indy ran for the door.</p><p>A prick of pain hit his face. He yelled. His head instinctively flinched back from the sting at the same time his brain told his legs to <em>get out of here, you idiot!</em></p><p>Indy lost his balance and stumbled, knocking something over. Pushing himself back up to his feet, he peeked out from behind his arm to orient himself back towards the door.</p><p>Then he ran.</p><p>Another sting hit the back of his hand. He growled in pain and waved his hand to dislodge the wasp. Unfortunately, that motion moved his arm away from his face, allowing another wasp to get him on the cheekbone.</p><p>Indy yelled angrily. Giving up on covering his face, he broke into a sprint.</p><p>As he passed the door, he grabbed at it and slammed it shut.</p><p>It simply swung back open again, but Indy didn’t notice. When he had gotten a good distance away, he turned back to face the shed.</p><p>“Hey!” he screamed. “I am Indiana Jones, and no <em>wasps</em> are going to win against <em>me!</em> Your hear that?”</p><p>After catching his breath, he turned and strode back toward the shed, not even bothering to let the wasps cool down. As he walked, he pulled his whip from his belt.</p><p>When he got close enough, Indy flicked his whip backward. Then he swung it forward in a smooth motion, starting at the legs and continuing up his body, gathering strength and momentum. The tip of the whip smashing into the nest, knocking it down.</p><p>Smirking confidently, Indy flicked his whip back again. He sent it forward again, this time at the lawnmower. The leather wrapped tightly around the handle of the lawnmower. Indy tugged experimentally, and it held firm. His smirk widened as he pulled the lawnmower out of the shed and all the way to himself.</p><p>“Ha,” he deadpanned. “I win.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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